


Spring Concert

by eledhwenlin



Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, College, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-26
Updated: 2011-03-26
Packaged: 2017-10-21 07:58:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eledhwenlin/pseuds/eledhwenlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon and Spencer are professors. Spencer's students are stupid and Brendon's preparing for the annual Spring Concert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spring Concert

**Author's Note:**

> Warm thank yous go to sansets, who did the original beta, and kinetikatrue who worked with me on the further edits. You're both rockstars. <3
> 
> Written for no_tags, prompt: _Brendon/Spencer, college AU (students would be ok, but professors would kill me omg)_

"All my students are stupid," Spencer declares when he walks into their living room. "I don't know how any of them managed to get into this school." His head aches and he thinks that if he has to read another desperate attempt at explaining how investment portfolios work, he's going to scream.

"Yeah, yeah," Brendon says from where he's seated at the piano. He's frowning at a piece of paper. "You have to complain to the dean, you were lured here under false pretences, they promised you top grad students, blahblahblah."

"What?" Spencer blinks. Brendon makes a weird hand gesture. "You always give the same rant after midterms. And then you go back and find the one student who blew the fucking curve and you're back to loving your work here."

"That is not at all true," Spencer insists.

"Spence," Brendon says.

"It's just--" Spencer sighs. "I've explained all of this like at least five times. How do they still not know any of it?"

Brendon has the audacity to grin at him. "They're distracted by your hair. It's much too shiny and pretty for a professor."

"Fuck you," Spencer says with feeling.

"Just as soon as I'm finished with grading these etudes and as you're done," Brendon replies and Spencer hates him really a lot. He says as much.

"You really, really don't," Brendon says and smiles at Spencer. His face is soft and his eyes are glittering, and Spencer feels all his frustration and anger leave his body.

"Yeah, I don't," Spencer says and moves to stand behind Brendon. Brendon leans back against him and Spencer starts to massage his shoulders automatically.

Brendon sighs and lets his head fall forward. "You're good at this," he says quietly.

"I know," Spencer replies. He rubs his thumb over Brendon's neck, swiping through the short hairs at his nape. "Play me something," he asks.

"Hm," Brendon says. He starts playing something quiet and slow and the notes soothe Spencer's nerves. Brendon always tells him that he's too wound up, too wrapped up in his research and projects and all the theses he supervises and for once Spencer's inclined to believe him. The music makes it easier to breathe, Brendon's skin warm where Spencer's fingers brush his neck and throat.

"How are the preparations for the Spring Concert going?" he asks. "Do you need me to come early and yell at the stagehands because they're too slow in setting up the seats?" Brendon's shoulder tenses up, but he almost immediately relaxes again, so Spencer's not sure whether he didn't just imagine it. He wonders whether his mind is playing tricks on him because of too many stupid answers about how their economy works.

"No," Brendon says. "Everything's fine. It's all been taken care of."

When Brendon stops, it takes Spencer a moment to come back. He's closed his eyes and upon opening them he finds that he's really fucking exhausted. He has no idea how much time has passed. He mutters, "thank you," but doesn't move. He's just resting for a moment, gathering the motivation to let go of Brendon and go to bed. _Just a moment_ , he thinks.

He's startled awake by Brendon laughing--the sound is permeating the fog in Spencer's mind and it takes him a moment to place the sound, realise that Brendon has stopped playing and that the tiny little shakes he's feeling are caused by Brendon twitching in time with his laughter. Spencer is still holding on to Brendon, who has wrapped his arms around Spencer's legs, keeping him upright and holding him firmly in place against Brendon's back. "You are falling asleep standing up," Brendon tells him, voice entirely too amused. He has his head tipped back against Spencer's stomach and is grinning up at him. "I think I should get you into bed."

Spencer tries to say, _I was wondering whether you'd ever ask_ , but he's interrupted by a huge yawn and his eyes won't stay open. He's blinking at the piano and trying to figure out where Brendon went, when Brendon takes his hand. "Hey," Brendon says quietly, and his palm is warm and dry in Spencer's hand, and Spencer just loves him so fucking much. He doesn't realise he's said it out loud until he sees Brendon blush and duck his head.

"Two years," Spencer tells him, and he feels--awed and delighted and happy. "Two years," he repeats and Brendon laughs again and Spencer thinks the occasion calls for a hug. Brendon follows obediently when Spencer tugs on his hand, lets Spencer wrap him up in a bear hug. Two years, Spencer thinks, they've been together for that long and Spencer still feels butterflies in his stomach and the sight of Brendon's smile can still brighten up any bad day he's had and he still wants to hold on to Brendon forever and ever and ever.

Brendon's small and warm in his arms, leaning into the hug as much as Spencer. "I love you, too," he tells Spencer earnestly.

"I know," Spencer replies. He thinks that there isn't a single person in either of their departments or, fuck, the whole university who doesn't know that Professor Brendon Urie of the music department is madly in love with Professor Spencer Smith from the economics department.

After a few minutes Brendon sighs and pats Spencer's back. "Come on, let's go to bed," he says. "Tomorrow is the Spring Concert and we both need to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed."

Spencer huffs, as Brendon pulls him into their bedroom. Fat chance of him being that happy in the morning.

He's asleep before Brendon comes to bed.

***

Spencer's alarm clock is ringing, and he groans into his pillow, "'M getting up, just five minutes," he mumbles into his pillow. The alarm cuts off and Spencer sighs in relief. He's burrowing deeper into his pillows, intent on catching a little bit more sleep, when he feels the bed shift.

"Come on, sleepyhead, time to get up," Brendon says from where he's sitting next to Spencer and kisses his temple. He's brought the delicious smell of coffee with him and when Spencer blearily blinks his eyes open, he finds Brendon already completely dressed and holding out a huge cup of coffee. Brendon's wearing the three-piece suit that makes him resemble a young Victorian gentleman, complete with his favourite paisley bowtie. He looks sophisticated and self-confident and hot and normally Spencer has more than a passing interest in getting him out of those clothes, but at the moment he only has eyes for the cup of coffee. When he grabs for it, though, Brendon moves it out of his reach. "Nope," he says way too brightly for this time of day. "You'll only get this after you get up." Sometimes Spencer hates early morning Brendon.

"You're mean," Spencer shoots back, but he throws the covers back and sits up. "This probably counts as a violation of my human rights."

Brendon snorts. "Sure." But he actually hands Spencer the coffee.

"So, what's today's plan?" Spencer asks, clutching the cup to his chest and taking little sips of the amazing nectar of life. He's learned the hard way that guzzling his coffee too quickly means he'll end up with a burnt tongue.

Spencer used to be endlessly confused by Brendon's ever-changing schedule. Now he only bothers to know when Brendon is teaching because Brendon's involved in so many things that Spencer just can't keep track of them all. Brendon is keen on the community aspect of college and Spencer blames his ridiculously small department. It's so tiny that Brendon basically knows every single student--though the fact that Brendon teaches the mandatory Introduction to Music Theory probably helps. And he is always helping to organise something. Spencer hadn't realised how much work Brendon actually put into his committees and concerts and fundraisers until they moved in together. Sometimes Spencer would prefer to have Brendon entirely for himself in the evening, but these early morning conversations are good, too.

Brendon sighs. "Mostly a lot of hand-holding for the concert tonight. Sarah's panicking over her solo, even though I've told her a gazillion times that she's ready for it and she'll do just fine. I'm pretty sure she'll end up in my office in tears today anyway."

Spencer has met Sarah and she'd seemed self-assured enough. But apparently her confidence evaporated completely when faced with the prospect of performing in front of a couple hundred people. She'd called Brendon the night before last, freaking out and about to have a melt-down. As far as Spencer knows not even his TA has his cell phone number (Spencer does have his office number forwarded to his voicemail when he leaves in office, in case an important call comes in, but that isn't something his students need to know--as far as they're concerned Spencer can't be reached once he leaves his office). Brendon, however, tends to give his number to any student he deems worthy: everyone who ever took a seminar on piano, composition or advanced music theory or music history; all his TAs; all students currently working on a thesis, whether or not he was supervising them; and basically everyone who ever had the nerve to ask.

Occasionally he envies the easy way Brendon is adored by everyone. Spencer's students seem to like him well enough, if he can believe his evaluations--he's fair, but demands that they work as hard he deems necessary for good grades. They are satisfied with him as a professor, but Spencer thinks they don't think much of him as a human being. Spencer's not sure who's doing teaching the wrong way.

Brendon has moved on to talking about his brass section ("they have it down, they just need to not lose their nerves") now and Spencer has to smile at his antics. Brendon might be prepared to hold everyone's hand tonight, but he's pretty nervous himself, gesturing wildly and smiling a bit too broadly. Spencer catches his flailing hand and pulls him close. "I'm sure they'll all do fine," he says and presses a quick, close-mouthed kiss to Brendon's mouth.

"I'll tell them," Brendon says. "And I'll see at around 5pm in my office?" Spencer nods.

"Okay," Brendon sighs, "I have to go meet James. He's done some revisions to the composition he's working on for his thesis and he wants my input and I won't be able to see him later on today." Brendon hugs Spencer, burying his face in Spencer's neck, breathing in deeply and holding on for a moment before letting go. "See you later."

"See you," Spencer replies and watches Brendon as he hurries out of the rooms. Then he sighs, drinks the last of his coffee and gets up. There are midterms waiting for him.

***

Ryan calls Spencer after his seminar on English literature in the 19th century to bitch about someone getting something totally wrong. Spencer tries to listen, but the more upset Ryan is, the longer words he uses and occasionally what he says ends up making zero sense to Spencer, so he has gotten into the bad habit of tuning him mostly out. He concentrates on drinking his second cup of coffee and making appropriate noises at the appropriate moments.

"So you're going to the concert tonight?"

"Ryan," Spencer says, "I'm dating the music professor who is in charge of the concert. Brendon would kill me if I didn't go." He leaves it unsaid that he likes seeing them perform. He knows so much of these students (Brendon not only gives them his cell phone number, but also his home address, and he brings them home for dinner) and he envies them their passion. Spencer loves economics, loves maths, but most of his students aren't passionate about their studies. Economics still mostly is a sensible major, something safe and where they're sure to find a job after graduating. There are the few who see more in it than a safe future, but all of Brendon's students are driven. There isn't a single one who studies music for any other reason than that they love playing and performing and composing. Spencer loves seeing that in action, remembering that Toni, whose name really is Antoinette, just managed to ditch her asshole, abusive boyfriend and is still able to play beautifully, that Jonas is studying the trumpet despite his parents wanting him to study something "safe" and that he hasn't talked to them in months, that Birdie, whose real name Spencer still doesn't know, has spent most of the last four weeks practising, because his entire family is coming to see the concert, grandparents and aunts and all. He feels like he is soaking up their passion.

"Are you going to be my moral support?" Spencer asks Ryan mockingly. Ever since one of his grad students dated one of Brendon's grad students, Ryan has shown an incredibly high interest in the concert. Spencer isn't sure why, but at least it means he'll have someone to talk to about non-music-related topics while Brendon is running around, comforting his students and being generally awesome.

"Yeah. Jon said he was coming, too. Like, artistic solidarity or something."

Spencer grins amused. "Of course, he's coming." Spencer endeared himself to the entire media arts department when he lured Jon to Los Angeles from Chicago.

There's some noise on Ryan's side of the line and he says, "wait, Spencer, just a moment." When he comes back, he sounds as apologetic as Ryan ever gets. "Sorry, a student is here to talk about her thesis, talk to you later?"

"Yeah," Spencer says resigned. It's back to grading midterms.

Despite the dreaded grading, time flies by. Spencer has indeed found a couple of brilliant people that he really needs to convince to apply for grad school, but most of his students seem to not have a very good grasp on the subject. It's really depressing. Still, he manages to finish all of his share of the undergraduate midterms. Ryan doesn't get why Spencer doesn't push them all off to his TAs, but Spencer wants to see in person what his students write, so he grades a small portion of each class himself.

Spencer is staring at the small pile of remaining midterms (mostly advanced classes for his grad students, nothing he'd like to grade right now), when there's a knock on his door. Brendon's leaning against the frame, smiling tiredly. "Hey," he says. "Victoria said to just come in."

Victoria isn't actually Spencer's secretary, just the departmental one, but since her office is right next to Spencer's, people tend to drop by her first. It saves Spencer from keeping interrupted too often, since Victoria will willingly lie for him and say he's unavailable. Also Spencer has the vague impression that Victoria adores Brendon and by extension Spencer and their relationship.

"Hey, B," Spencer replies and he smiles in return. Brendon comes in and closes the door, before he comes to sit on the edge of Spencer's desk.

"My concert," Brendon announces, "is going to be a disaster."

Spencer tugs him off his desk and onto his lap. "It won't be," he says. "You always think that, but you are brilliant and your students are awesome and it'll all come together."

Brendon melts against Spencer, puts his head on Spencer's shoulder and sighs deeply. "I know," he says. "But it's really exhausting."

"I know, baby," Spencer says and presses a kiss against Brendon's temple. "Have you eaten lunch yet?" Brendon has this tendency to forget about food when he's busy, and then he wonders why he feels dizzy and is bad-tempered.

Brendon shakes his head and presses his face against Spencer's neck. "Don't have time."

"But you're here now," Spencer points out.

"Yeah, but I have to go back, like, right now because I still have a fuckton of stuff left to do and--"

Spencer presses his finger against Brendon's mouth. "No," he says. "You won't go back. You will come to the cafeteria with me and have something to eat. Something real, with three different food groups. And then I'll go back with you and help you."

"You will?" Brendon asks, and it's the small hint of hope in his voice that cinches it.

"Yes," Spencer says determined. "You know you only have to ask."

Brendon sighs. "I know."

Spencer carefully doesn't point out that he helped Brendon with the Christmas concert and it wasn't even half as stressful as this one. He also doesn't mention that he was a little bit hurt, when Brendon didn't ask him at all. Spencer's spreadsheet was awesome.

"I'm sorry," Brendon says. "I know that I could ask you and you'd help me, but ... I didn't want to."

"Care to tell me why?" Spencer asks. "I thought last time worked out fine."

"It did. That's why."

Even after two years and one year of peaceful cohabitation, Brendon's thought processes still manage to completely throw Spencer. He supposes it's why he loves Brendon so much, the way he sees the world in a entirely different light that Spencer. Sometimes, though, it's very annoying.

"Brendon," Spencer says, and he's not even trying to not sound desperate and confused, "that doesn't make any sense."

Brendon sighs again. "It totally does." He twiddles with a stray thread on his sweater vest. "I kind of wanted to prove that I could do it by myself."

"You organised the concerts all by yourself for years before I came."

"Yeah, but--" Brendon groans and makes a complicated hand gesture. "I don't know. I felt like, I can't describe it. But. You help me so much, all the time, it felt like I was, dunno, useless." Brendon grows steadily quieter as he continues speaking. "I kind of had to prove to myself that I didn't have to depend on you so much."

Spencer carefully turns Brendon's head with his hand, so Brendon's looking at him. He's biting his lip, and his eyes are downcast. "Brendon," Spencer says, and his voice breaks on the last syllable. "God, Brendon." He doesn't know how to say that Spencer's the dependant one really. He relies on Brendon to tug him out of his shell and be someone else than Professor Smith. Brendon's challenging Spencer each and every day they spend together, so that all these little things Spencer does for him don't really count when they consider all the huge, life-changing stuff Brendon does to and for Spencer daily without even thinking.

Spencer's phone rings and he glares at it, hating the interruption. Brendon just laughs, leans forward and picks up the phone. "Brendon," Spencer says, but Brendon shushes him.

"Hi, you've reached Professor Smith's office, this is his secretary speaking?" Brendon listens for a moment. "Yeah, I'll tell him. No, I'm sure he won't mind. Yeah, it's fine. Okay, bye!"

"I hate when you do that," Spencer whines.

"No, you don't," Brendon replies. "You love it when I take care of all the boring stupid interruptions while you're busy." He leans back against Spencer. "By the way, Alan won't be able to drop off the graded midterms until Monday. He says he's sorry."

"Monday?!" Spencer can feel a tension headache coming on. He'd wanted to be completely finished by Monday, having already entered the grades into the interface. "That is--"

Brendon kisses Spencer. "Hush," he says against Spencer's mouth. "It'll be okay. Your students won't mind if they get their grades on Tuesday."

Spencer mumbles, "I would mind."

Brendon tsks. "Can we remember that I am having a personal crisis here?"

"Your crisis bares any reasoning," Spencer says. "If I don't turn in my grades on Monday, I'll be behind on my schedule all term."

Brendon has the audacity to laugh. "I can't believe I've ever thought that I had to prove myself to you. Without your schedule you are nothing."

"Hey," Spencer protests. "It's a good schedule. I've streamlined it during my many years of teaching." Then he realises exactly what Brendon has said. "What, prove yourself to me? You don't have to prove yourself to me at all."

"I know it's a good schedule," Brendon replies, "but the world won't end if you don't keep to it exactly."

"Brendon, I don't give a damn about the stupid schedule."

Brendon sighs. "It's just. Sometimes I feel like I do. You had this awesome spreadsheet for the Christmas concert and you had already meeting rooms booked every week and so many people asked whether you were going to help us, which means me, again. It was--I felt kind of stupid," he admits.

" _Brendon_ , you're anything but."

"I know. It's just--I'm good at music. I'm not so good at colour-coding my notes."

Spencer laughs. "I'd say we have complementary skill sets then."

"Yeah, but your skills seem a bit more useful than mine." Brendon puts on his fake-cheerful smile, shrugging.

One day Spencer will go on a killing spree in Summerlin. Despite music being all that Brendon's ever wanted to do, he still has weird hang-ups that Spencer feels entirely comfortable blaming on Brendon's family.

"I love your music," he tells Brendon. "And I love you, just the way you are. I don't care if you share my OCDs. It's probably better you don't, because we already own way too many colour highlighters."

Brendon giggles. His nose is cold against Spencer's neck, but Brendon's reaching out to hug Spencer. "Yes, it probably is," he says and he's smiling for real now. If Spencer weren't already used to all Brendon's nervous ticks, random mood swings included, he'd be really worried by now.

Brendon has his head on Spencer's shoulder, and he seems content to just stay there. "You don't have to prove yourself to anyone," Spencer feels he has to point out, "least of all to me, okay? I love you and." Brendon turns to look Spencer into the eye and Spencer stops.

"Yeah, I know." Brendon kisses him gently. "So, I have to go now and bring some order into my pandemonium."

"You don't want my help?" Spencer asks. He feels strangely bereft. "I would help you--"

"If I asked," Brendon interrupts him. "Yes, I know you would." He leans in to kiss Spencer. "But I think I can get it down on my own."

Spencer frowns. "This is not because of-" He gestures at the two of them, meaning the conversation they'd just had.

Brendon smiles. "No."

He gets up and says, "After all, I've done this on my own for years before you came." He turns away and calls over his shoulder: "Come to the auditorium an hour before the concert starts?"

"Okay," Spencer says. The door falls closed behind Brendon, and Spencer reaches for the next midterm. He can't make himself concentrate, though, so he mostly ends up playing Spider Solitaire on hard for the rest of the afternoon. He tells himself that it's Friday afternoon and with his TA not delivering his portion of the exam today, Spencer can just as well put off the remainder of his share until the next week.

It might just be the best Friday afternoon Spencer's had lately (usually he is running through an seemingly endless to do list, trying to get as much done before the weekend as he can do), if Spencer weren't worrying quite so much about Brendon. Brendon's always nervous before concerts, but this time it feels different. Spencer can't shake the feeling that something's going on that Brendon isn't telling him, and he has to do his best to keep his paranoia at bay. If there is anything, Brendon will tell Spencer when he thinks Spencer has to know. Yeah.

***

Spencer is determinedly not spying. He is not, he is merely a bit early for his meeting with Brendon. Brendon told him to be at the auditorium earlier. Okay, so it's a little less than two hours to the concert, but there wasn't anything Spencer could distract himself with anymore. And, okay, he is not actually worried, just ... concerned. Yes, Spencer is concerned about the success of the concert because Brendon's very emotionally involved and it would suck to see him sad because something went wrong. The entire thing doesn't have anything to do with Spencer checking up on Brendon and how he's doing. He's just a concerned boyfriend.

  
So, not spying. He is just standing in the side entrance watching the people in the auditorium (and it really is pandemonium, if there is any method to this madness, Spencer hasn't discovered it yet) and trying to find Brendon. It would be much easier if he just asked one of the students.

"Hey there, Professor Smith!" Spencer blinks surprised as Zac, one of his own grad students greets him.

"Hi Zac." Zac is carrying some chairs. Spencer cringes a little bit because they have apparently just begun setting up the chairs for the audience and according to Spencer's schedule they should already be half-way finished by now. Also Spencer is perhaps a little bit interested because he had no idea that Zac was helping out.

"If you're looking for Professor U, he's over there." Zac points at the backstage door. "One of the horns has an instrument emergency. He's fixing it."

"Thank you," Spencer manages. There was a time in his life, when he wouldn't have guessed that he'd ever hear the words _horn_ and _emergency_ in one sentence, but those were sad, lonely times, as Ryan likes to tell him.

Brendon is ridiculously easy to find: just follow the sounds of crying until he can catch sight of Brendon's bright red sneakers (his lucky sneakers, old and worn, and Spencer totally gets that, he still owns the shoes he wore at his defence, although he never wears them). The girl is only sniffling anymore, when Spencer approaches them, and Brendon looks up to see who's coming. His face immediately lights up, and the girls bites her lip to hide a grin not very successfully. The knot in Spencer's stomach unties, and he feels himself smile back.

"Just a moment, Spence, okay?" Brendon looks pathetically grateful. "You can, uhm, can you go over there," he gestures at an office door, "and find a copy of the program for me?"

"Sure," Spencer says. The office's only desk is cluttered with paper, sheets of music and post-its and little scraps of papers with Brendon's writing on there. It takes Spencer a few minutes to locate what looks to be the first draft of the program. He is still looking for the current draft because it has to be somewhere here, when he hears the door open close.

"Oh, god," Brendon breathes. "Have my students always been this crazy?"

"Most likely," Spencer grumbles. "They are art students. You, Ryan and Jon have all the mad ones. My students are the only sane ones."

"Well," Brendon stays teasingly, "yours don't study art."

"Oh, hell, they don't." Spencer gives up on his search. "There is no copy of the program here," he tells Brendon disgruntled. "Unless you meant the one where you didn't even know what they were playing. Also isn't it a little late to fiddle around with the program now?" For the Christmas concert Spencer had the programs printed one month beforehand. All the students had seemed very amazed and confused, but nobody had complained.

Brendon laughs. It's not a silent laugh. It's huge guffaws and he has to use the door to prop himself up. "It was a trick," he presses out between pearls of laughter. "I just needed a reason to get you into here."

Spencer raises an eyebrow, grinning. "To do what?" he says with a leer.

Brendon grins at him. "I wish we had time for that."

Spencer walks over and crowds Brendon against the door. "We don't?" Brendon shakes his head, but he kisses Spencer nevertheless. "Still have so much to do."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to keep you from your work," Spencer says, but he doesn't move.  
Brendon laughs. "No, you just came to check up on me." He doesn't seem angry, he just smiles at Spencer.

"I didn't," Spencer says, but it sounds weak even to his own ears.

"You totally did," Brendon says, "but I totally don't mind, because right now you are another pair of hands I can put to work."

"Oh, that's all I am to you. I see how it is."

Brendon beams at Spencer. "Come on, you know you want to yell at my stage hands because they're not finished setting anything up the marks yet."

Spencer grins. "I can do that," he says.

Brendon kisses him quickly. "Then go do that, please."

Spencer goes and does exactly that. It's strangely satisfying. Afterwards he sorts out a problem concerning the programs. He isn't very surprised to find that Brendon has managed to organise the whole concert just fine--what's left to do are last minute things. If you pressured him a little bit, he might admit that maybe things were moving slightly more organised last time, that there weren't quite as many open questions left, but on the whole Brendon's style works.

The admittance time rolls by much earlier than Spencer suspects. Brendon gives him a five minute warning, for freshening up. Then he drags Spencer to the front entrance.

Brendon enjoys mingling, meeting the parents of his students and talking to other faculty. Spencer mostly stands at his side and makes meaningless small talk. Then suddenly Brendon takes his hand, squeezing it tight. Spencer looks first at Brendon, but he is staring intently at an elderly couple that just came in and--it takes Spencer a few seconds to place the familiarity, but once he has recognised Brendon's parents from the picture Brendon put up in the living room, next to Spencer's family and their friends, he can't stop filing away the similarities.

"Hey," Brendon says, his voice soft and quiet.

"Hello, Brendon," his father replies. He shakes Brendon's hand and his mom gives him a quick hug. Spencer can't remember a time when he went home that his mom didn't insist on her embarrassing ritual of hugging Spencer at least three times before he even picked up his bag, straightening his collar and pointing out how little he seemed to eat. His father always hugs him, too. Both his parents have extended this ritual to Brendon immediately. Spencer can't help but wonder how Brendon's feeling now. He entwines their fingers and holds on tight. Brendon immediately leans towards him, all the indication that he wants Spencer to be close that Spencer needs.

"I want you to meet, well, this is Spencer." Brendon sounds defiant, his head held up high, and Spencer's only heard heavily edited versions, but as far as he knows being gay was just the final nail in the coffin. Still, it can't be easy for Brendon's parents to shake his hand.

"We are pleased to meet you," Brendon's mom says, her voice calm and distant. She is smiling politely.

"It's quite my pleasure. I have heard a lot about you," Spencer says. It sounds a little bit like a threat. Spencer doesn't mind in the slightest.

Brendon's mom's smile widens a fraction. "We hope that we will find time to talk to you after the concert," she says, "but now I think we must find our seats."

Brendon looks after them as they walk through the foyer. Spencer can't look way from Brendon, though. "Hey," he says, but then the parents of a student are standing in front of them, excitedly talking to Brendon, and that's the end of it for now.

Spencer means to find a way how to spirit Brendon away for only a minute before the concert, but then the five minutes bell rings and they have to go find their seats.

The concert is great. Spencer is sitting alone because Brendon has to be backstage. He comes to Spencer during the intermission. "Hey," he says, smiling widely.

"Hey," Spencer replies. He wants to hug Brendon, pull him in close and tell him how much he loves him, but they are in public. Left and right people are coming up to Brendon to tell him how much they love the concert so far.

Brendon's parents don't come by.

Brendon leans against Spencer, though, and he seems mostly relaxed, so Spencer has to be satisfied with putting his hand on the small of Brendon's back, hoping that this is enough.

The second half of the concert flies by. Spencer is impressed by the display of musical talent, as he always is. It makes him long for his old drum kit, just to see whether he even can keep a steady beat anymore.

It's not difficult finding Brendon backstage. All students come up to him and hug him, everybody laughing, still filled with adrenaline. Brendon is laughing, his face shining with sweat. The sight takes Spencer's breath away, and he thinks _I love you_.

Spencer walks up to Brendon and wraps him up in a hug from behind. Brendon giggles delighted. "My knight in shining armour, to my rescue," he says and turns his face up.

"What do you need saving from?" Spencer replies. He gives Brendon just a peck on the lips, but it's apparently enough to elicit some awing from the surrounding students.

"Hush," Brendon tells him, "wait until you're old and in love and in an longterm relationship and you'll get it." They all laugh at him. Spencer's pretty sure that at least half of them are dating each other.

"Excuse us," Brendon says and he tugs Spencer into the office they already visited that afternoon. Spencer pulls him close and kisses him for real. Brendon melts against Spencer, his hands slipping inside Spencer's jacket.

"It was amazing," Spencer says.

"Thank you," Brendon says. He holds Spencer close and it's easy for Spencer to put his arms around Brendon and hold him tight.

"Everything okay?" he asks after a minute. Normally Brendon's talking up a storm, hyped up with nervous energy, a silent Brendon never means anything good.

"I guess so," Brendon says and then he sighs. "I just thought--oh, I don't know what I was thinking."

"Your parents?"

Brendon nods. "Kara said that they were regretting our fights, and I figured it meant that, well." He shrugs. "I don't know."

Spencer presses a kiss against Brendon's temple. "We can go and find them," he suggests. "See if they are still sticking around?"

"And then?" Brendon asks tiredly. "Invite them for dinner and then having to suffer through them acting embarrassed and weird?"

"It might be a start," Spencer says. "Embarrassed and weird is better than angry and silent. At least they're trying."

Brendon sighs. "Okay then."

***

Only Brendon seems surprised when they find Brendon's parents waiting for them right in the foyer. "Uhm, would you like to have dinner with us?" Brendon asks.

His parents share a look before his mom shakes her head. "Unfortunately we can't. We have to drive back soon, or we won't be back in time for Church tomorrow." They are tense, backs straight, but both are giving them the smallest hint of smile. It is much better than the years of radio silence, Spencer thinks.

Brendon's smile is a little bit strained. "I understand," he says.

He hugs both of them really quickly, "Have a safe trip home." Spencer shakes their hand and then they are gone. Brendon watches them leave, looking sad and a bit disappointed, so Spencer leans down and whispers into his ear: "They're trying."

Brendon sighs. "I know."

"Come on, let's go home," Spencer says. Brendon looks around and points at where Ryan and Jon are standing.

"Aren't we going to dinner with them?"

Ryan catches sight of them and gives Spencer the eyebrow. Spencer smiles and shakes his head. "I think they can do without us." He tows Brendon behind him towards the entrance. When he turns around, Brendon is smiling at him and mouths a quiet _thank you_ at him. Brendon is quiet in the car. Spencer manages to pick up take-out from their favourite Thai place. At home Brendon sinks down on their couch, immediately reaching for the remote. By the time Spencer has returned with plates and forks, his eyes are already closed. "Hey," Spencer says quietly. "Food?"

Brendon hums in reply. Spencer offers him the Pad Thai. The smell lures Brendon into opening one eye and then sitting up. "Thanks," he says. They eat quietly watching some documentary about dolphins. Spencer is secretly freaked out about them, but Brendon loves them. It's a simple sacrifice to make.

"Brendon, your parents were really nice today and-" Spencer starts after they're done eating, but Brendon stops him.

"Another time, okay?" He leans up to kiss Spencer. "Tomorrow, yes? Just not right now." He keeps kissing Spencer, with a strange sort of urgency, so Spencer lets him. He pulls Brendon close. They make out on their couch, while the documentary about dolphin morphs into a one about parrots, and it's only when one of their forks drops from the table that they stop.

"Perhaps we should move this," Spencer points out. They're both panting already and he can feel Brendon's erection against his thigh, and he really, really wants to touch naked skin.

"That's a good idea." He kisses Spencer once again gently. "See you in five."

Spencer cleans up the remainder of their dinner, and he is struck once again by their domesticity. He can hear Brendon rummage around in the bathroom, ostensibly looking for the new bottle of lube they just bought this week, while he puts the dirty dishes in the sink and throws away the empty take-out containers.

Spencer doesn't want to trade his life for anyone else's.

Brendon is already getting naked when Spencer enters their bedroom. "I hate this shirt," he says. "The buttons are so damn small and fiddly and I just want to rip them all off."

"Then you would just have to sew them back on," Spencer points out.

He gently pushes Brendon's hands away and quickly opens the remaining buttons. Brendon goes still. His eyes are half-closed and he is smiling, while he lets Spencer undress him completely. "I love when you do that," he says.

"When I do what?" Spencer's making quick work of Brendon's belt.

"When you take charge," Brendon says. Spencer pushes Brendon's slack over his hips and ass. Brendon giggles as they pool around his feet. "Why am I almost naked and you're still completely dressed?"

"Because I am in charge," Spencer says and he kisses Brendon's laughter right off his face.

Brendon wraps his arms around Spencer's waist and tugs Spencer's shirt out of his pants. "You are," he agrees while he presses kisses along Spencer's jaw, sucking gently on the one spot under his ear that drives Spencer insane.

Spencer growls and his hands tighten on Brendon's hips. Brendon throws his head back, giggling delightedly. Spencer manages to get them both entirely naked in one minute flat. Brendon is still giggling when he lets himself fall backwards on the bed. He spreads his arms and sighs loudly. "It was a good concert, wasn't it?" he asks. "A good night?"

Spencer sits down by Brendon's feet and gently presses against his instep. "It was a very good night and it was an excellent concert. Your students are amazing and your parents will eventually come around."

"I hope you're right," Brendon says. His eyes are closed and he's pushing his foot against Spencer's hand. "I so hope you're right."

"Brendon," Spencer says, "are we really talking about this now?" He gestures at them. "I mean--you're naked, I'm naked. Why are we talking about your parents?"

"Well, we can stop," Brendon offers, eyes still closed, but he is grinning widely. He draws his legs up, putting his feet flat on the bed. "Or perhaps the guy in charge can distract me from my emotional plight."

"Emotional plight, my ass," Spencer snorts. He kisses Brendon's knee, starts kissing a line down Brendon's thigh.

Brendon giggles and squirms. "Spencer, that tickles," he breathes.

"Hm," Spencer says while he bites gently down on Brendon's hipbone. Brendon puts his hands on Spencer's head and cards his fingers through his hair. "Is the distraction working so far?" Spencer mumbles against Brendon's skin.

Brendon sighs. "Yes, it is. Keep doing that." Spencer licks a stripe along the crease in his hip. Brendon's already half-hard and his fingers are tightening in Spencer's hair. "Spence," he says.

Spencer wraps one hand around Brendon's cock, but not moving his hand just yet. Brendon spreads his legs a bit wider, pushing up a little. "Yes, there," he says. "That is very distracting."

Spencer grins. "I hope so." He presses one finger behind Brendon's balls, just brushing over his entrance. Brendon sighs and relaxes, sinking down into the sheets. Spencer licks at Brendon's cock. He likes Brendon's taste, he always has. Brendon's cock feels heavy and full in his mouth, and Brendon is grabbing Spencer's hair tight, but it feels good.

Spencer loves doing this. Spencer gets lost in the blow job. He only stops when Brendon starts saying, "Stop, stop, Spence, please."

Reluctantly Spencer pulls off. "What?"

Brendon shakes his head and pulls Spencer up. "I don't want to come just yet," he says. "I want to come with you inside me."

Spencer groans against Brendon's shoulder. "I think I can manage that," he presses out. Brendon's already getting the lube, and he drops a condom on the bed. Spencer kisses him gently. Sometimes he feels like sex with Brendon should be routine now, that they've done everything that's possible by now, but he is surprised time and again by how new and exciting it still feels.

"Come on, now, Spencer, please."

For example, Spencer can tell exactly when Brendon is ready and when he is just hurrying Spencer along because he can't wait for it. "Not yet," he says and keeps working his fingers in and out of Brendon.

"Spence, Spence, Spence," Brendon whines, a high, keening sound while he's pushing down hard on Spencer's fingers. "Now, please." Spencer thinks that he's good to go. Brendon makes a sad mewing sound when Spencer pulls his fingers out.

Spencer's hands shake when he tears the condom wrapper open. "Spencer," Brendon says, breathless and hoarse, "now, please?" When Spencer pushes in, Brendon keens and pulls his legs up higher. "That's good," he moans, "right there, keep doing that."

Spencer has to adjust to the wet, tight heat around him before he starts thrusting slowly. Brendon squirms and writhes, but he can't do much from his current position. Spencer loves it like that, still being in charge and being able to decide all by himself how fast and deep he goes. When Brendon is in a hurry, he always wants it fast and rough, and Spencer had to show him that gentle and slow had its merits, too.

Today Spencer feels like not moving at all. He wants to stay as close to Brendon as he possibly can. Spencer lets himself drop a little, so he can kiss Brendon. His thrusts are shallow, only perfunctorily, and Brendon whines. "Fuck," he groans, "faster." Spencer rolls his hips once and then determinedly says, "no."

He loves the quick intake of breath Brendon takes, the way he wraps his legs and arms around Spencer, keeping him close, how their skin rubs together. They are both sweaty and it's an easy glide. Brendon's eyes are huge and dark, and his babbling becomes less and less coherent until it consists only of a long litany of Spencer's name mixed in with swear words and commands to go faster and harder.

Spencer's entire skin feels on fire and his arms are getting tired. Brendon's digging his hands into Spencer's shoulders. "Come on," he says, "please." And, "I love you, god, I love you so much." Spencer speeds up without really wanting to, his hips snapping fast against Brendon. Brendon's cock is dragging against Spencer's stomach, leaking come, and it's easy to wrap a hand around it and just squeeze it gently. Brendon comes almost instantly, body going still and frozen. He clenches down hard on Spencer, and it's too much and Spencer thrusts jerkily once, twice, before he's coming inside Brendon.

Spencer slumps down and Brendon's hugging him tight. "Love you, love you, love you," he whispers into Spencer's ear. Spencer just manages to turn his head a little and press a dry kiss against Brendon's temple.

All of Spencer's muscles are tired and screaming abuse at him, when he finally manages to pull out. Brendon disposes of the condom. Spencer blinks, just for a moment, but suddenly he's under the covers and Brendon's snuggling up next to him. "Go to sleep, Spence," Brendon tells him. "Go to sleep." Spencer does.

As Spencer falls asleep, he says, "I love you, B." He can feel Brendon's smile against his shoulder and that's what he falls asleep to.


End file.
